Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot
by Scandalacious Intentions
Summary: "But seas between us broad have roared, since times gone by." It's New Year's Eve and Remus Lupin doesn't intend to spend the evening alone.


**Disclaimer: I'm not Ms. Rowling and of course I don't own any of this or make any profit from it. I like to play in her sandbox and then go home to my own characters. It's a shameless love-affair with fan fiction.**

**A/N: It's a little morbid and depressing for New Year's Day and I'm sorry. It's not the sort of thing I usually write. We lost a friend this year and we left him a seat last night and bought him a drink, and I got to thinking that if I was completely alone, I could imagine going much further.**

"_A revelation in the light of day, You can't choose what stays and what fades away. And I'd do anything to make you stay. No light, no light. Tell me what you want me to say._" - "No Light, No Light" - Florence and the Machine.

The string of fairy lights provided little light. They hung over the long oak table in the kitchen, giving the impression that the stars had emerged from behind the clouds. It wasn't quite what the Great Hall's ceiling had managed, but it was not a bad effort.

The far corners of the room were shrouded in darkness and a cloud of smoke hovered around the table. The ashtray was slowly overflowing onto the cream cloth, but no attention was paid to it.

"Jesus Christ, Remus, it's like a Mafia den in here."

Lupin looked up from his cards and offered James a wry smile. He inhaled deeply and stubbed out his cigarette, blowing the smoke in James' direction.

"I remember," said Sirius, knocking back the last drops of whiskey from his glass, "when you couldn't even get out of bed before you'd finished half a packet, Potter."

"Oh, shut up, I was never that bad. How many packets has Moony got through anyway? Something like twelve by now."

Lupin laughed incredulously. "It's my second. I buy smaller packets than you."

"Bloody hard to," said James, grinning, "since I've given up."

"Well then I'm smoking for two."

"I thought you were trying to give up?"

Lupin tapped the pack against the table. "It gives me something to do with my hands. It gives me a reason for the silence."

James sighed. "Go on. Give me one. I might as well. I'm sat in a cloud of the bloody stuff. If it's getting in my lungs, I might as well enjoy it."

Lupin rolled one along the table with the warning, "Lily will murder you if you come home smelling of smoke."

James raised his eyebrows. "Thanks, Remus. I'd better start writing my last will and testimony at this rate."

Lupin laughed. "Testament."

"You'd better not smoke it," said Peter. "Remember how long it took you to quit? You told Lily you'd give up when she told you about Harry. By the time he was six months old, you were single-handedly responsible for the sudden increase in sales of mint. You don't want to have to start all over again."

James' shoulders collapsed. He smiled sadly. "You're probably right there, Pete." He didn't roll it back to Lupin. It lay abandoned against his rapidly depleting stack of Galleons. "I'll have it when I'm about to lose."

"You might not yet," said Lupin. "Stop folding."

James stared at him. "You don't leave me much choice."

"The whole _point_ of Poker is to bluff, James. You don't think I really had a Full House last time, do you?"

James was affronted. "You mean you lied to me? You cheated?"

Lupin rolled his eyes. "I was bluffing, yes."

Sirius' silver eyes glinted. "Yeah, Remus. Stop cheating."

"You're one to talk! You're the biggest bloody cheat of us all. I can barely see you over your pile of ill-gotten gains."

Sirius laughed. Lupin did not. Peter's eyes shifted back and forth between them, too ashamed to brazenly stare, but enjoying their bickering.

James sighed. "All right, you pair, come on. Indoor voices. Let's not be sore losers. You're all doing much better than me anyway."

Peter laughed. "Is that your dad-voice, Prongs?"

James nodded. "I've been practicing. I think I'm getting rather good. I hope to God Harry's a hell raiser, or I'll never have anyone to use it on."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "James, he's _your_ son. You have nothing to worry about."

All four of them laughed, but the tension was still palpable.

"You know what," said Lupin, turning to face Sirius on his left, "you _do_ cheat and I am _not_ forgiving you, but this is the one night when it doesn't matter so…" He trailed off and lit another cigarette.

"What's the difference then?" asked Sirius. "Why do I cheat and you bluff?"

"Because you cheat at everything. You cheat at _Solitaire_! No-one can trust you as far they can throw you. And frankly, in many ways, Sirius, you are a poor excuse for a human being."

James opened his mouth to protest, but Sirius shrugged. "So why do you want me here then?"

Lupin took a long and contemplative drag. "You were the first friend I ever had and I'm damn well lonely! Can't you see you've made me lonely? Can't you tell I've been losing my mind?"

Sirius only offered a brief and firm nod. "Right. So I'll see your three Galleons and I'll raise you my House Elf."

"You haven't _got_ a sodding House Elf. You _have_ got about forty Galleons."

"All right, Remus, don't get snappy. I'll call."

Lupin narrowed his eyes. "You're bluffing."

"Can you afford to take that chance?"

Lupin's eyes glanced down to his hand. James had folded with the ace and four of spades, Peter with two Jacks, rendered useless by the flop. The nine of hearts lay on the table. He held the makings of a Straight, but Sirius' eyes glinted.

"No," said Lupin, throwing his cards into the centre of the table. "No, I can't."

In Poker, as in life, the winner takes all, and Sirius reached across the table, gathering the bets of his friends in his arms. He hesitated, pushing Lupin's three Galleons back to him.

"I can't take it, Remus. You're fucked up enough without being bitter."

"I'm not bitter," Lupin protested. "Not about three Galleons. Take them. You've taken everything else from me. What makes my money any different than everything that made my life actually worth living?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "All right then."

"Let's do something else," said Peter, clapping his hands together and entwining his fingers, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Lupin poured himself a large measure of Firewhiskey, though their drinks went untouched. He knocked it back and it burned his throat. He winced and got to his feet.

"Where are you going?" asked James. "Come on, it's not even midnight yet."

"I need some air."

James grinned. "I'm not surprised. Do you want some company?"

Lupin nodded. "I always do, but I think I should be on my own."

"O.K. Well, you've got five minutes and then we're breaking into Auld Lang Syne whether you're here or not, and it would be a shame to do it without you because you're the only one who knows all the words."

He wasn't sure how long he'd been outside with the coastal winds whipping through his hair and his father's angora cardigan. The cigarette made him feel sick. He wasn't sure whether he'd been smoking or drinking too much. Maybe a little of both, he thought, stamping it out before returning to the empty kitchen as the clock sounded midnight. Their laughter, their raucous singing led by Sirius' baritone, rang in his ears.

He took the seat he had assigned to James and listened, his head in his hands, to the last ring of the peal of church bells.

1982 had begun.


End file.
